Hi!! I've recently discovered you and really like your work and was wondering if you could write what the first time with Joaquin's characters is like?
Here it is! I hope you will enjoy it, been a while since I wrote multi-joaquin characters, so I wrote as many as possible :)
Your first time x Joaquin characters
Arthur Fleck
Arthur is nervous, terrified, even. His hands tremble as he touches your cheek, his lips parting like he might say something but can’t. He has a few nervous giggle fits. He looks at you as if he's never been touched before, like you're something sacred. He keeps checking your face for signs of hesitation, ready to stop at any moment. You guide him with whispered encouragements, reassuring him with your voice and your body. He’s gentle, almost reverent, and when you finally connect, he gasps like he’s never breathed until now. He cries a little afterward, holding you like you saved him. And surely you did.
Commodus
It's passionate from the start, desperate and slow-burning. Commodus touches you like he’s claiming you, yet afraid you might disappear. He holds eye contact fiercely, wanting to watch every expression on your face. There’s a tension to him, even as he undresses you with shaky hands, like he’s not sure whether to worship you or possess you. You feel every emotion through his body, the pain, the loneliness, the obsessive type. When you finally join, it’s a collision of need and vulnerability. He kisses you after, over and over, like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world.
Joe
You take the lead, because Joe doesn’t know how. His hands are strong but hesitant, calloused and warm. You guide them, placing them over your hips, your chest, your face. He’s quiet, breathing hard as he tries to memorize the feeling of your skin. When you undress him, he flinches at first, scars and all but you kiss each one until he relaxes. It takes time, it takes communication to allow him to be vulnerable, to let down his barriers. When it finally happens, he moves slowly, like he’s afraid to hurt you. You hold him tightly the whole time, whispering how much you love him, keeping him enchored to reality and present time. Afterward, he doesn't speak. He just holds you close, cheek pressed to your forehead, safe for the first time in years.
Bruno Weiss
He’s confident but not cocky. Bruno knows what he’s doing, and more importantly, he knows how to make you feel wanted. The first time is in his bed, candlelight flickering from his nightstand, music playing softly in the background. He starts by touching you through your clothes, asking for permission at each step, but with a low voice that makes you shiver. When your clothes are off, he kisses your stomach, your thighs, your collarbone, taking his time. When he finally sinks into you, it’s slow, deep, and deliberate, he knows how to draw out pleasure, he knows what to say. Afterward, he lights you a cigarette and pulls you to his chest. You’ve never felt more like a goddess.
Charlie Sisters
It starts after a long day of riding. You’re sore, the fire crackling nearby, and Charlie’s looking at you with that dark, teasing smile of his. It begins with his fingers brushing yours, and then a sudden, rough kiss. But the moment you’re on your back, he softens. He’s not rough, not with you. He treats your body like something breakable, running his hand along your ribs, pressing kisses into your shoulder, your cheek, your breast. His voice is gravel when he whispers your name. When he pushes into you, he swears, not because of lust, but because of how right it feels. He stays inside you long after it’s over, forehead to your chest, finally at peace.
Abbé de Coulmier
It happens in his room, late at night. He shouldn’t let it happen, you both know that, but the way he looks at you, trembling with desire and guilt, makes your heart ache. He touches you like he’s never touched anyone before. And he hasn’t. His fingers are elegant, hesitant, shaking as he removes your clothing. He kisses your neck and murmurs apologies and psalms under his breath, torn between faith and flesh. When he finally enters you, he gasps, like it’s too much, too sacred. It’s slow, overwhelming. He is famished, touch deprived. Afterward, he clutches you like a lifeline, forehead pressed to yours as he whispers, “Forgive me… but I love you.”
Max California
It’s wild, playful, and incredibly hot. Max is a tease, all dirty jokes and soft moans against your neck. He undresses you like unwrapping candy, hungry and eager but gentle. He makes you laugh in bed, and it’s sexy because he knows how to balance it, sensual touch and deep kisses, but never taking it all too seriously. He talks you through it with sweet nicknames and filthy praise. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours as he moves inside you. And when you’re done, he wraps you in a big shirt of his and plays one of his songs on his guitar until you fall asleep in his arms.
Willie Gutierrez
Willie tries to act like it’s just sex, he says smooth words, shows a slick smile, but his hands betray him. They shake a little as he unbuttons your clothes, like he’s more nervous than he’ll ever admit. He makes you feel like the center of the world, kissing every inch of you with a reverence he tries to hide behind teasing. “You sure you want me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. And when you whisper yes, he gives you everything. It’s slow, tender, and raw, he’s a man who’s had to fight for everything, and loving you is no exception. When it’s over, he pulls you close, silent but visibly shaken by how much it meant.
Leonard Kraditor
With Leonard, it’s soft, hesitant. He’s so afraid of doing something wrong, of being too much, too eager, too fast. You have to soothe him, whispering how much you want this, how safe he makes you feel. He clings to your every word, kissing you like it’s the first and last time anyone will want him. When you guide his hand between your legs, he gasps, unable to look away from your face. He makes love to you with deep, trembling breaths, trying to memorize how it feels to be inside someone who truly loves him. You hold him afterward, and he says nothing, just breathes you in like salvation.
Bobby Green
It starts rough, Bobby kisses you like a man on the edge. But when he gets you naked, he pauses. His hands slow down, his breath stutters. He cups your face, really looks at you, and something in his eyes changes. “I ain’t used to this… takin’ my time,” he mutters, but he does. He takes his time with you. Lips tracing your collarbone, hands gripping your thighs just right, his voice low and hoarse against your skin. “You feel that?” he murmurs once he’s inside you, eyes locked on yours. “That’s mine now.” But it’s not possession, it’s devotion. It’s Bobby letting himself feel. And afterward, he holds you tighter than you expect.
Freddie Quell
Freddie is a storm. The first time is chaotic, kisses that land too hard, hands everywhere, the scent of him thick in your lungs. But there’s so much vulnerability underneath. You see it when he pauses, forehead pressed to yours, like he’s afraid to break you. “I ain’t good at being gentle.” he says, voice trembling. But he is. When you guide him, he listens his hands on your waist, your back, gripping you like a man drowning. The sex is primal, desperate, but beautiful, the way he moans your name, the way he clutches your body afterward like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. He kisses you everywhere after, like a man who never thought he’d be allowed love. Usually after making love, after a little break, he would ask for a round 2.
Ray Elwood
Ray is all charm at first. Quick wit, cocky grin, a hand at your waist as he pulls you onto his lap. But when the clothes start coming off, something changes. He slows down. “You okay?” he asks, checking in as his fingers run along your bare thigh. He wants you to feel good, not just wanted. The moment he slides inside you, he gasps, all the bravado slips away. He’s sweet with you, murmuring how beautiful you are, how tight you feel, how he never wants to be anywhere else. And when it’s over, Ray is still, forehead against your shoulder, hand stroking your ribs like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever touched.
Doc Sportello
You’re half-naked before you even realize it, it starts with kissing on his couch, his hands under your shirt, his voice all lazy murmurs and compliments. “You’re soft...” he groans into your neck. Sex with Doc is trippy, a little sloppy, and incredibly tender. He gets distracted kissing your body, your hips, your stomach, your thighs. It’s slow and languid, with plenty of laughter in between. When he finally makes love to you, it’s with stoned, reverent slowness , like he wants to melt into you completely. Afterward, he lies on top of you, his head on your chest, mumbling about the stars while his fingers trace idle circles on your skin.
Merrill Hess
Merrill is overwhelmed. He’s nervous, overthinking it all, his hands clumsy, his breath shaky, his eyes wide and locked on yours. You take his hands, guide them gently, let him explore you at his own pace. He presses kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, whispering things like “You sure?” and “You’re so beautiful, oh God.” When he finally enters you, he groans low and deep in his chest, a sound like relief, like coming home. He’s tender, so careful, holding you like he’s afraid to hurt you. After, he keeps saying “thank you” like you gave him a gift he never thought he’d deserve.
